


Heroine Addict

by rain_sleet_snow



Category: Primeval, Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6365947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_sleet_snow/pseuds/rain_sleet_snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to the anomalies, Becker meets his idol. Jenny's never been interested in the Napoleonic Wars, but she sees the appeal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heroine Addict

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celeste9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/gifts).



> Fandomstocking gift for celeste9 (Celesteeeee, who are you on AO3?) 
> 
> I am fairly sure the idea of Princess Charlotte surviving childbirth and becoming queen is not original to me, but for the life of me I cannot work out who came up with it. If anyone knows, I'd love a heads-up so I can credit them. Also, I don't know if Wellington was bad at talking to people he disagreed with - I did not do a whole lot of indepth historical research for this ficlet - but he definitely was having it off with Harriette Wilson. She complained that he kept talking Riflemen and infantry manoeuvres in bed.

"It was fucking brilliant, Jenny, you should have been there!"  
  
"What?" Jenny said, baffled, letting her boyfriend into her house (despite private misgivings based on the mud coating his feet and trousers, and the stern words her cleaning lady would probably have for her if she let Becker track mud everywhere).  
  
He stood on one foot to remove his shoe. "Do you mind if I put my things in your washing machine? Jane Roland, Jenny, we met Jane Roland!"  
  
"Who?" Jenny said rather weakly. "No, feel free."  
  
Becker promptly stripped down to his boxers. "Only the foremost military mind of the nineteenth century!"  
  
"That explains why I've never heard of her," Jenny said. "For God's sake go and put on some jeans. You left a pair at my house last week, they're on the chair in my room, probably at the bottom of the pile."  
  
"This is not usually how our dates go," Becker remarked, grinning at her and slinging his trousers neatly over one arm.  
  
"Normally you don't arrive on my doorstep and start to strip."  
  
"I beg to differ."  
  
Jenny recognised the glint in his eye and remembered the occasion he was referring to. She managed to keep a straight face, and raised a crushing eyebrow. "Go and put trousers on. Or dinner will burn."  
  
"I don't believe it," Becker said firmly. "You wouldn't let your food burn."  
  
"Just go!"  
  
Twenty minutes later, they were sitting down to a very nice fish pie ready-made by an enterprising girl who lived down the road, and Jenny had had enough of her glass of wine to feel up to asking about Becker's unprecedented fit of excitable fandom.  
  
"So," Jenny said. "Jane Roland?"  
  
Becker's eyes lit, and he laid his fork down. "It was amazing. We were blundering around the Sussex Downs looking for the anomaly and this dragon with no lights appeared and nearly flattened us! So we waved them down and tried to explain what was happening, and there was a bit of a stand-off, and then one of the junior officers called her down, and she actually listened. So we got somewhere." He grinned. "By which I mean we got them back through the anomaly! They knew something had happened, but it was so foggy they couldn't be sure what."  
  
"I see," Jenny said, a little blankly. 'But who is Jane Roland? Why is she important?"  
  
"She's the f-”  
  
"Foremost military mind of the nineteenth century, yes, I heard you the first time."  
  
"Jenny," Becker said solemnly. "She was the first female admiral in the forces. She flew Excidium, a Longwing."  
  
"That does sound interesting," Jenny conceded.  
  
"She used to make the Duke of Wellington splutter," Becker said, laying a serious hand on Jenny's own. His eyes were dancing, and Jenny felt a reluctant smile curling at her lips. " _Splutter_ , Jenny. She told him that if he spent less time shagging Harriette Wilson and more time talking to people he disagreed with he'd find it much easier to get the money he wanted for his armies. She said that _in front of Queen Charlotte_."  
  
"All right," Jenny said, considerably amused, laying down the fork in her free hand. She'd finished her pie, anyway. "She sounds ballsy, I'll give you that,"  
  
"She told Quinn that just because he looked like a bleached guttersnipe didn't mean he could address her as anything less than Admiral Roland, ma'am, and for God's sake to stand up straight."  
  
Jenny laughed aloud. "Is the anomaly still open?" she asked. "I don't know whether I want to hire her on as a consultant or propose marriage."  
  
Becker grinned, and got up to stack the plates. "She can't have you," he said, pouring her a second glass of wine and kissing her on the cheek. "I got here first. She can bloody well join the queue."


End file.
